Secret Keeper
by SeawardSun90
Summary: Hermione Granger has been keeping secrets for what seems an eternity. How many will she be willing to give up in order to survive, and to keep those she loves alive? Rated for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **This is a teaser for something I've been working on. If you guys like it I will add more, but if not then just let me know...I know I took down my other story but I just didn't like the direction it was going in, so I scrapped it because my Muse had left me, and this one had been sitting near my ear for awhile.  
**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling has the exclusive rights, not me. **Sadly...I just like to use them in my imagination.

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"Can you keep a secret?"

"I've been keeping secrets my whole life."

"Every time I look at you, I want to hurt you."

"That's your secret? It's not a very good one. Everyone knows that."

"Do you know why?"

"Because I'm filthy, disgusting, not worthy of breathing." An exasperated sigh echoed in the nearly empty room. "How many more reasons do you want me to give you?"

"I want to hurt you because of how you make me feel."

The silence was terrifyingly loud. The space between them was closing slowly but surely. The air was already thick with unsaid insults. Two pairs of eyes stayed locked on opposite targets, his on her, hers on him. They watched each other, like predators stalking prey.

"I make you feel that sick inside, do I?" The small smirk on her face crept there without permission. She could feel her lips twisting into his signature facial expression. He watched her in amusement, eyes dark with a mix of hatred and passion.

"Yes. So grossly ill that all I want to do is squeeze this neck of yours until you can no longer breathe." To demonstrate his point, a pale hand slithered up the side of her throat, fingers closing firmly around the flesh of her neck. She lifted her head, trying to keep air flowing to her lungs. His grip was strong, but not crushing her windpipe just yet.

"But you won't do it." She challenged, swallowing thickly against his palm. He pressed harder with his fingers, causing her to whimper just the slightest bit in pain.

"I can't do it." His voice floated through the tense air as a whisper, giving her throat one solid flex of his hand before withdrawing it. She sucked in a greedy breath, ignoring the heat that had grown in both her cheeks. "You're much too valuable for the cause. I have been expressly ordered to not kill you, which causes me the utmost pain. I'd like nothing more than to see you dead."

"You always tell such beautiful stories." She scoffed and twisted her wrists in their shackles, the cold iron rubbing her skin raw. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sighing as she looked at him once more. "Are you done yet?"

"I wasn't aware I was taking time out of your busy schedule." He let the words fall from his mouth slowly.

"Yes, you're running into the time I use to recount all the cracks in the concrete." Her sarcasm was rewarded with a halfhearted backhand to her right cheek. Her head fell to the left, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

"If it was anyone else down here except for me, your insolence and mouth would be punished." He growled at her, annoyed by her constant defiance. She rolled her eyes and let her head rest against the stones behind her.

"I know." Her eyes closed and another long wistful sigh filled the room. "You'll have to go soon."

"I know." He nodded and stepped closer to her, two fingers placed beneath her chin as his thumb rested just below her bottom lip. He used this grip to pull her head away from the wall, forcing her to look at him. "I'll come back."

"I look forward to it." She drawled, her expression tainted with malice. Her eyes, however, were hopeful. He hummed in reply and pinched her chin sharply between his fingers and thumb, her mouth falling open. He took advantage of her position, his teeth sharp against the sensitive and wet flesh of her lip. He tasted like pine and cinnamon and wrong, and she was flavored like ginger and mint and perfection. The echo of the cell gate closing kept her company as his footsteps disappeared down the hallway of the dungeon.

Hermione Granger drew her lip into her own mouth, sucking lightly to draw more blood from the spot where he had bitten down too hard.

Draco Malfoy raised one hand to his mouth, fingers wiping gently at the corners of his lips to remove the tiny specks of blood lingering there before placing the dark silver mask over his face and drawing up his hood.

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**AN: **Let me know what you think, please. Fair winds and following seas...


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** A big thanks to Kmjb for the review, and to cosmoGirl666 and catsgotmytongue for the follows! I appreciate it! Enjoy the chapter!

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Hermione let her head thump against the stone wall, drawing it forward and repeating the process. She stared up at the ceiling of the dank cell, her hands folded politely in her lap as she sat on the cold floor. The scratches on the wall behind her indicated that she had been here for four weeks and three days. She was grateful for such an accurate internal clock, otherwise she might have lost track of the time.

She had been captured, stupidly in her opinion, while on a routine patrol on the outer perimeter of Hogwarts, of all places. She had just checked in with Harry via Patronus before turning and heading into the Forbidden Forest. The Order had taken control of Hogwarts after the battle, quickly sealing off all of the entrances and setting up wards against Death Eaters as soon as the majority of them had fled the scene. Voldemort had escaped with his life, but just barely, and Harry had been left on the courtyards stones unconscious. Several masked Death Eaters had carried Voldemort's mangled body away, soon taking flight as they crossed the long bridge. The Order had tried to chase them down, the ambitious members called back quickly by McGonagall and Shacklebolt to refocus the group.

Hermione had written the patrol rotations herself and knew exactly how impenetrable they were. The wards were some of her very best Charms work, combined with McGonagall's experience. It added insult to injury that some of the Death Eaters had been able to slip past her efforts to keep them out, and it infuriated her to no end that Malfoy would not tell her how they figured it out. She guessed he had something to do with it, but he would not yield an answer to her. She should have felt the wards be passed through, but nothing registered with her. Instead she continued her rounds, stepping in to the Forbidden Forest without a sound. The Stunner that hit her square in the chest was silent as well, and exploded before her face in a flash of red and brilliant white. She woke a number of hours later with a blinding headache to find her wrists bound in metal shackles and her wand snapped in half laying in a mockery at her feet. Hermione had spent the first four hours of her captivity screaming herself hoarse, kicking her legs angrily in a toddler like fashion.

She was still kicking and screaming when Voldemort himself had walked into her cell, effortlessly turning her hoarse, raspy screams into silent miming. He lifted the spell right before casting the Cruciatus Curse on her, her hoarse voice suddenly springing in to new life as fire wracked her veins and ice chilled her blood. She had no idea how close to passing out she was until she woke up the next morning, naked and shivering. Her legs ached terribly as she tried to sit upright, and the soreness between them sent her spiraling into a bout of hysterical and terrified shrieking.

The following days passed in a blur of horrible images. Hermione tried her hardest to pass out as quickly as possible whenever Voldemort's wand turned towards her, armed with the Cruciatus. She willed her mind to shut as the black cloaks descended upon her like ravenous beasts, tearing at her flesh with a hateful lust. A single week passed in agony, and she wondered if this was ever going to stop, if they were ever going to just kill her, or if they were just going to keep trying to break her.

And Hermione could barely contain her shock when one of them finally saved her.

"_Watch as she dances!" A gleeful cackle erupted down the corridor as Hermione sidestepped another Cruciatus. The younger Death Eaters circled her hungrily, emboldened by the bottle of Firewhiskey they passed between them. Wands flicked lazily around her, sending halfhearted and drunken hexes at her feet as she tried her best to dodge them. A few stinging rebounds touched her toes, making her jump wildly. A round of laugher roared through the Manor as Hermione suddenly fell victim to two separate and surprisingly well aimed Cruciatus Curses, her tortured screams muffled by the thick carpet._

_ "What the hell is going on down here?!"_

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"Has the Mudblood provided anything of use?"

"Her will is strong, My Lord, but she is breaking. Within the next few sessions I shall have the location of the Order." Draco Malfoy kept his head low, his face covered by the intricate Death Eater mask as he knelt before Tom Riddle.

"She has been resilient, indeed. These last four weeks have been most trying." The words were hissed as the cloaked man glided down the marble steps in front of his chair. "But after your performance with the Brown girl, I trust you will give me the information I demand." A sickly pale hand landed on Draco's left shoulder and he had to remind himself not to shudder. "You have done well, young Malfoy."

"Thank you, My Lord." He rose to his feet, falling back into the ranks beside his father and the elder Goyle. He was shaking on the inside, his stomach flipping and turning knots as his eyes followed Voldemort's every move.

"The time has come, my faithful followers, for me to name my heir." Draco's stomach plummeted; he knew what was coming. Next to him, Lucius Malfoy drew up in height with pride. "After tonight, I think it is obvious as to whom I have laid the most trust in. Young Malfoy has done our cause well, and it is only fitting that I choose him to rise to command at my side."

Voldemort turned to the crowd, his right arm extended out to the chair that was placed beside the ivory throne the Dark Lord himself perched upon.

"Come, Draco. This is your place now." Draco suppressed the urge to vomit and kept his eyes locked on the stairs that led up to the small stage. He moved in front of his newly appointed place, turning and facing the throng of Death Eaters. His heart beat furiously against his ribs, sweat dripping from his palms as he sat down in unison with Voldemort. Draco sought out his father's mask, his heart breaking to see tears lining the older man's lower eyelids behind the silver façade.

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**AN:** Please be sweet readers and leave me reviews! Fair winds and following seas...


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **...not feeling the love here, readers...Please give me some feedback and let me know what you think of my work so far...

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"Bring the Mudblood to me in my private chambers." Draco passed the order coldly to one of the lower ranking Death Eaters, who mumbled in acknowledgement and took off for the dungeons. Draco waved his hand over his face, his mask falling into a wisp of shadow. He stalked up the winding staircase that twisted through the foyer of the Malfoy Manor, climbing to the third floor. He swept down the hallway, his robes flowing behind him in a manner that even Severus Snape would have admired. He wandlessly unlocked the double doors to his chambers, pushing open the wooden portals until he stood in the threshold. Here he paused, sighing, and then he closed himself inside his room. His cloak found residence on the back of an armchair, his black tie cascading to the floor. His shoes were unceremoniously kicked off near the bathroom, his socks thrown into the small pile building beside his dresser. His black leather belt dropped on the floor between the bed and his desk. The black slacks he wore suddenly drooped around his waist, reminding him of the fact that since becoming Voldemort's go-to man he had lost most of the fiber and muscle he had once possessed. He pulled the black dress shirt out of the waistband of his slacks, undoing the first few buttons as he sank into the chair at the desk.

A soft knock at the door gained his attention, but he did not move his eyes from the paper he was reading.

"Enter." Draco turned in his chair as footsteps entered his chambers. "You're dismissed." He nodded to the young Death Eater, who bowed and backed out of the bedroom. The doors were pulled shut and it was suddenly just him, and Hermione Granger.

"Lording your superiority over not only me, are you?" She asked tartly. He rose from his chair, both hands raking through his hair before he covered his face, his fingers digging into his skin as he dragged his hands down.

"Take a bath, you're covered in filth." He ordered, pointing to the bathroom. Hermione held up her hands, still chained together, in an attempt to show him that she would have some difficulty following his command. With a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand the shackles dissipated into a dark mist. "Now bathe."

"Yes, Master." Hermione sneered, rolling her eyes as she stomped into the bathroom. She made a show of slamming the double doors there shut, twisting the lock loudly. It was a needless attempt to keep him at bay. Draco settled back into his chair, resuming his reading. He was reviewing the plans for the next attack, a three stage wave on the downtown London area that was meant to recapture the Ministry of Magic. The Order had kept a strong claim to the Ministry throughout the war, despite the numerous tries by the Death Eaters to infiltrate and overrun the establishment. Draco's brow furrowed as he read over the list of names assigned to the task. Goyle was rotting on his own two feet and Dolohov was as unstable as ever after they had tried to restore his memories. The only names on the list so far that Draco had any faith in whatsoever were Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson. Draco pursed his lips and reread the tasking again, tossing the paper back on his desk when his mind clicked into gear.

It was nothing short of a suicide mission. This was meant to eradicate the lesser Death Eaters while looking unintentional. Draco lifted a hand to his mouth, chewing lightly on his fingernails. He was so absorbed in his own thinking he missed the bathroom doors being flung open.

"You'll gnaw your fingers clean off." Hermione snapped, teasing her fingers through her damp hair. Draco let his hand fall to his lap, swiveling in his chair to face her. "So what have you summoned me for, other than your gracious bathing privileges?"

"You'd do well to remember who you're talking to." He snarled. She stared blankly at him, unaffected. Draco broke in a soft smile, one that Hermione found unnerving on his usually cold face. "You missed the ceremonies this evening."

"Pity." She rolled her eyes again. "I do love a Death Eater social."

"Voldemort has handpicked his successor." Draco began slowly. He let the statement sink in, knowing she understood when her eyes met his. "He wants me to get this information from you."

"You don't need it, obviously, if he's so willing to promote you to next in line without it." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, stubbornly raising her chin just the slightest bit. Draco rose from his chair, rubbing the back of his neck as he made his way over to her. Quietly, he stared down the space between them until he was almost looking right down his nose at her face.

"You'll tell me what I want to know." He murmured, his hands falling from the back of his neck to her shoulders, creeping closer to her throat. "You'll tell me willingly, or I'll force it out of you. It's your choice." His fingers laced loosely around her neck, a gentle yet heavy reminder of how much control he had over the situation even with her out of her bindings. Hermione inhaled sharply, her pulse quickening as his fingers ran lightly over her skin.

"I'm not telling you a damn thing, Malfoy, so go ahead and kill me." She pressed her own throat against the grip around it, daring him to finish the job. With a low growl he squeezed hard for just a moment, then released her, stalking into the bathroom and slamming the doors behind him. Hermione lifted a hand to her neck, shaking, as her free hand fell to the side of the bed to steady herself.

She visibly jumped when the bathroom doors reopened with a bang, cursing herself mentally. Draco stood in the doorway, hands on either side of the entrance as he took deep heavy breaths. He pursed his lips tightly as he looked up at her, grey eyes ablaze with anger and frustration.

"You need to tell me at least one detail about the Order." He sounded desperate. Hermione shook her head slowly, arms once again crossing her chest. He took his hands off the doorframe, shoving them deep into his pockets. He scowled horribly and let out a low huff of air. "They have the Weasley girl in custody."

"Ginny?" Hermione hated that her voice came out as a squeak, a pitiful and womanly squeak. "They have Ginny?"

"Yes." Draco scowled even more and stared at the carpet. "This is why you need to tell me about the Order."

"You won't save her. Don't even pretend that you will." Hermione snapped furiously, her fingernails digging into her palms. "Don't try to use her as leverage against me!"

"Fuck, woman." Draco crossed the gap between them in three strides, his hands grabbing her upper arms with a steel strength. "If you don't tell me they'll kill her for sport. After they're done torturing her, and raping her, and beating the piss out of her. They've already started. Tell me, and you'll save her life." He gave her one solid shake, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Tell me!"

"Alright." Hermione took a wavering breath and lowered her head, her words mumbled into her chest. "There's a safe house on the outskirts of Cardiff. It's run by a pair of Muggles and their son. The Order stops there every two weeks for supplies. The next delivery will be in two days." Her voice cracked and broke on the last few syllables, tears streaming down her face. She brought her hands up to cover her eyes, her shoulders shaking with her betrayal. It wasn't the bomb Draco expected to get, but it was information that he could put a positive spin on.

"Thank you." Draco let out a quiet breath and gently squeezed her shoulders, leaning forward to place a ghost of a kiss against her forehead. She shuddered, backing away from him in disgust.

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_"Don't you ever think about what we could be?" Delicate fingers traced patterns on a bare and pale chest. Her head was nestled comfortably in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, her hair splayed out over his arm and the pillows beneath them._

_ "What do you mean?" He toyed with a few strands of her curls, twisting them between his fingers as he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head._

_ "If we stayed just like this and pretended nothing outside was happening." She sighed and turned her head, her lips pressing against his skin. He hummed and tightened the arm around her naked waist, fingers digging into her flesh. "We could just…run away and never have to answer to anyone."_

_ "We'd both have someone to answer to, you know that, Hermione." He laughed a little bit and twisted his left arm, displaying the Mark burned into his flesh. She winced and covered the marred skin with her hand, feeling the raised and scarred tattoo writhing beneath her palm. "But it is a nice sentiment."_

_ "Don't go." She whispered into his chest as he made to remove the sheet covering both of them. "Stay, just this once." He faltered, one hand curled around the edge of the sheet. "Please, Draco."_

_ "I don't have much time." With a sigh he relaxed back into the soft pillows, his arm once again snaking around her body, pulling her skin as close to his as possible. _

_ "That's alright." She lifted her face towards his, one hand pressed to his cheek as she melted her mouth to his. "I just want to be selfish for a bit."_

_ "Understandable." He mumbled the word into her lips and tightened his hold on her, deepening the kiss until she was writhing eagerly against him._

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**AN: **Alright, please leave me a review and tell me what you did or did not like...


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Well, here's another round...

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Draco was sweating again, sweating profusely as he knelt before Voldemort, ready to deliver the small bit of information he had gathered from Hermione the night previous. In front of him the Dark Lord waited for Draco to speak, his sickly face drawn tight with tension and anticipation.

"My Lord, I have extracted information regarding the Order from the Mudblood." Draco spoke slowly and evenly, trying to keep to the nerves out of his voice. Voldemort leaned forward almost eagerly in his chair, his fingers curling around the ends of the armrests. "On the outskirts of Cardiff lies a supply post for the Order, run by two Muggles and their son. Their next delivery is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. While I realize this is not the exact location, if we were to track movement for some time then perhaps, my Lord, we could obtain even more information." Draco remained in the kneeling position until he heard Voldemort's soft hiss of satisfaction.

"Well done, young Malfoy. Your skills of persuasion with this Mudblood have improved, I see. Come, rise, we have work to do." Voldemort glided down from his post, Draco falling in step behind him.

"My Lord, I have a request."

"Ask, young Malfoy." Voldemort waved open the doors leading into the large study on the ground floor of the Manor, shifting around the edge of what used to be Lucius' desk. He motioned for Draco to sit across from him.

"I know we have the Weasley girl in custody. I ask that she be placed under special supervision." Draco was thankful for the mask suddenly as he chewed on his lip.

"And why? Why should she need to be placed under supervision?" Voldemort removed his wand from his robes, laying it carefully on the desk. Draco eyed the bone-like object before continuing.

"It would be more of a personal favor that I owe to a colleague." Draco paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Nott has expressed high interest in the girl, and perhaps it would be prudent to let him have control of her. She could yield even more information to us if we removed her from the dungeons. Down there she will serve as nothing more than a rallying point for the rest of the captives, with her status and connection to Potter. Away from them, she is nothing more than a thought."

"You cover your ground well, Draco." Voldemort kept his eyes trained on the silver mask hiding Draco's face before nodding slowly. "Yes. Have the Weasley traitor moved into private custody, and make sure Nott knows to report to you with any additional information he may…persuade out of her." It was a sick and disgusting grin that Voldemort offered to Draco, and Draco had to resist the urge to retch into his mask. He rose to his feet carefully, bowing low before turning on his heel and exiting the study. Draco took a quick left, his mask waved away as he all but ran for the glass doors at the end of the entrance hall, pushing them open and bursting out onto the back patio as he gasped for air. His head was throbbing from the attempt to keep Voldemort out of his thoughts, his mental wards and barriers finally relaxing as he strode around the gardens that had been arranged and kept by his mother.

"Your mother would be proud of you." Draco spun wildly as his father's voice surrounded him. Lucius stood by the double doors that had been left open in Draco's haste, his long blond hair smoothed back from his face. "She always had a soft spot for you."

"I doubt this is what she would be proud of." Draco gestured to himself and the ceremonial robes he was sporting. Lucius clasped his hands behind his back and walked down the path to join Draco, the two men walking in unison.

"Your mother was proud of you the first day you flew, even though you wound up face first in a mud puddle." Lucius recalled quietly. "Narcissa was a wonderful woman."

"But not wonderful enough." Draco scowled and kicked at the fine sand beneath his feet. "She should still be here."

"Her choice was her own, there was nothing either one of us could have done to stop her." Lucius said, setting his jaw hard as he stopped walking to inspect a dying rosebush. "She had made up her mind, Draco, and her decision was to leave in the only way she knew how."

"She didn't want this for me." Draco sighed and plucked a small budding flower from its bed, twirling it in his fingers. "Sometimes I don't-"

"Silence." Lucius demanded angrily. "You'll do well to watch your tongue, boy. You should be honored."

"Well I'm damn well not." Draco fumed, pinching the flower too hard in his fingers. It crumpled and fell to pieces in his palm, leaving colorful stains on the tips of his fingers. Lucius turned from the rosebush to stare hard at Draco, frustration and exasperation bubbling in his eyes. The two Malfoys exchanged heated glares for a moment before Lucius lunged, his hands grabbing at the collar of Draco's robes.

"You've always been an insufferable, ungrateful little shit. You have no idea what your mother and I went through to get you here. You should be thankful, not insolent."

"And you should remember to whom you're talking now, Lucius." Draco whispered levelly. "Even if I don't want this position, it wouldn't bode well for you if the Dark Lord was to see you threatening me." At this, Lucius loosened his grip on Draco's robes, his face twisting into a dark and ugly expression as Draco's words sank in fully. "And while I appreciate your assistance, Father, I won't be needing it anymore." Draco spat the words at Lucius' feet before gathering his cloak tightly around his shoulders, striding back towards the Manor. Lucius watched his son leave, turning his eyes shortly to the broken flower on the path where Draco had been standing.

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"Nott!" Draco called harshly for his old classmate as he passed down the corridor where the other Death Eaters were housed. The farthest door on the right swung open and Theodore Nott, disheveled and terrified, appeared in the hallway. "Come with me." The dark haired man nodded and kept his head low, following Draco down towards the dungeons. "You'll be watching over our newest acquisition. The Weasley girl needs to be monitored and persuaded to give us more information regarding the Order."

"Weasley?" Nott echoed, nearly tripping over himself as he tried to keep up with Draco.

"Yes." Draco suddenly whirled on the spot, pushing Nott up against the wall. "I've done you a favor, and now I need you to do one for me, Theo."

"A-anything."

"Find a way to get out of the mission next week. You don't need to go to the Ministry. It's a suicide mission with a fucking bow tied on it. The only competent people going are you and Pansy." Draco took a deep breath, clapping his hand on Theo's shoulder. "You trusted me once, in school. I need you to trust me again."

"I do." Nott said quietly, finally bringing his eyes up from the floor to meet Draco's.

"Good." Draco removed his hand, a small smile gracing his lips. "And for Merlin's sake, drop the act. You're a man, for crying out loud, not some sniffling little schoolgirl."

"Piss off." Nott rolled his eyes and then fell back into step with Draco, but this time beside him. "You're the only one who doesn't buy it."

"Because I happen to know what a schemer you are, and what lengths you'll go to stay hidden." Draco smirked and unlocked the iron gate leading into the dungeons.

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**AN: **Let me know what you all think, please...fair winds and following seas.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Thanks to Deathlyhallows721 for the review and the follow, and to KatieGallagherDare for the follow and the favorite! Awesome!

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"We have to get them back." Harry Potter pleaded tearfully with the gathered members of the Order, his hands supporting his weight as he leaned on the table, eyes seeking out each and every single person sitting before him. "We let Hermione's capture go too long without retribution, we cannot let them get away with her and Ginny."

"We understand your pain, Harry, but this is too risky." Remus Lupin said sadly. "They will expect a counter attack now."

"What if it was Tonks, Remus?" Ron Weasley asked, coming to stand beside Harry. "What if they had taken her?"

"Then I would understand why no one could risk themselves." Nymphadora Tonks spoke up quietly. "I wouldn't want anyone to come looking for me if it could bring down this operation."

"That's a lie!" Harry shouted, pounding his fists on the table. "We have to get them back, we have to!"

"I'm so sorry, Harry." Lupin shook his head as the Boy Who Lived sank into the chair at the head of the table, his shoulders quivering as he buried his tearful face in his hands.

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"Here we are." Draco stopped in front of a large cell in the dungeon, looking into the darkness at the pale figure curled in the corner. "Come now Weasley, on your feet."

"Go to hell, Malfoy!" Ginny Weasley screamed at the blond man standing in front of her cell, cowering even further in the corner. She wiped at her eyes, which were leaking tears, and winced as she accidentally pressed too hard on the bruise forming around her left eye.

"Ginny. Come here." Draco lowered his voice and beckoned to her softly, motioning for Nott to unlock the cell.

"You stay away from me, Malfoy. Don't touch me!" Ginny watched with wide eyes as Nott unlocked the cage where she was being kept, both men entering the barred area. More tears sprinkled down her face. "Please, please don't." She pressed herself hard against the walls, as if she were trying to disappear into the stone. Draco nodded towards Nott, who crossed the cell and bent down next to Ginny. She closed her eyes and turned her face away, her entire body shaking in terror.

"You'll be coming upstairs to stay with me." Nott explained quietly. "You don't have to stay down here anymore. Nothing will happen to you again." He reached out with one hand and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. She let out a whimper and clawed at the stone wall beside her. Nott looked over his shoulder at Draco, who simply shrugged. "You have to come with me, Ginny."

"Do you want to see Hermione?" Draco asked suddenly. Ginny's head whipped around, her eyes popping open at the mention of her friend. "She's upstairs. I promise. You can see her."

"You have…you have Hermione?" Ginny used the wall for support as she clambered to her feet. "She's alive?"

"Very much so." Draco nodded slowly. "But you have to agree to stay with him."

"Yes, okay, please just let me see Hermione, please." Ginny let Nott take hold of her arm, leading her out of the cell and then dungeon altogether. Draco led the procession back upstairs, discouraging other Death Eaters from looking with warning glares. He stopped on the second floor of the staircase.

"Have her ready in half an hour, Theo. I'll be back down then with Granger." Draco commanded. Nott gave him a curt bow of his head and then escorted Ginny down the corridor, moving quickly to his room. Once inside he threw the latch, locking them in. Ginny stood nervously by the side of the bed, wringing her hands as tears built once more in her eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Theo began carefully. "I need you to trust me. I understand why you don't, but I need you to let me explain some things first. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes." Ginny wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection, her fingers gripping the thin shirt she wore. Her eyes followed him around the room, still unsure of what he intended to do. He entered the attached bathroom and shortly Ginny heard the sound of running water. He walked back out, handing her a soft and warm towel. She took it, amazed that something so comforting could exist within the Manor.

"Take your time." It was a reassuring smile he wore, and Ginny could barely hold back the grateful one that started to form on her face.

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"Wake up." Draco kicked the side of the bed, startling the slumbering person in it awake with a yelp. "Get out of bed and get dressed. You've got somewhere to be."

"What?"

"Fix that bird's nest you call hair and get dressed." Draco repeated as Hermione scrambled to get out from underneath the sheets. "You've slept half the day."

"Contain your jealousy." She smart mouthed, earning herself a kick to the back of her legs as she headed for the bathroom. She shut the doors behind herself, taking one hard long look at her reflection in the mirror that covered an entire wall. Hermione brought a hand to her face, feeling the dry and stretched skin there. She was thinner than she had been four weeks ago, after her capture. She had gotten used to Molly's cooking, and had maintained a healthy weight even on the run. Her eyes looked even further sunk into her skull, and her cheeks were beginning to sallow. Her skin was pale, paler than usual, and made the bruises around her wrists from the shackles looks much darker than they really were. Her hair was possibly the only thing that remained unchanged, except for the fact that it stayed dirty and sometimes hung in lank columns over her shoulders. She touched the ends of a few strands of hair framing her face, taking comfort in the fact that she had been able to bathe yesterday.

"Hurry it up!" A loud fist banging on the door broke Hermione from her reverie and she swore under her breath towards the person on the other side. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves of the simple brown sweater and tossed her hair into a loose bun that bounced against the back of her neck as she walked.

"Let's go then." She threw open the doors and entered the bedroom, surprised when Draco caught her by the arm. His hand grabbed at the messy bun on her neck, yanking the elastic tie out. He took a few hairs with him in his haste. "That hurt."

"You'll survive." He kept her arm in his hand, her hair covering her face as he pulled her from the room. Hermione contemplated asking him where they were going, but after being here four weeks and being under Draco's strict supervision, she had learned that questions weren't taken kindly. He preferred to pull her around like a dog on a leash until they reached their destination, whether it was his chambers, the dungeons, or in this case, the common living area where the other Death Eaters made their homes. Hermione had only been on this floor of the Manor once during her stay, and it had been a few days after her capture. A few of the younger, brazen, and quite idiotic Death Eaters had taken heavily to the Firewhiskey and thought it appropriate to toss a few of the captives around like moving targets. She had just undergone the third round of the Cruciatus Curse, a very weak version, when it seemed a tornado of black and platinum descended on the junior group. It was the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts six months ago that Hermione had seen Draco, and when he looked at her as he laid into the younger Death Eaters, she knew he remembered their last encounter.

_They had drawn their wands on each other, pointed them straight at the other's chest, waiting for the right moment. They circled, foot over foot, never once moving their eyes or their wands._

_ "You don't trust me." He said with a hint of disdain._

_ "I learned not to." She considered trying out a few torture spells on him but found her hand was immobilized. _

_ "Would it make you feel better if I said I was working out a way to make this all end?"_

_ "Probably not." She answered honestly. She let out a harsh chuckle and stopped circling, planting her feet. "I should kill you, you know."_

_ "You won't." He was bold enough to lower his wand first, taking a hesitant step towards her. She raised her wand just the slightest bit, challenging him to come closer. "They'll come for you soon. I'd say maybe within the next three months or so. Don't go anywhere alone."_

_ "Why are you telling me this?"_

_ "I told you." He crossed the gap separating them in five short steps, knocking her wand arm aside and cupping her face in his hands. "I'm going to make this all end. Just trust me." He bent his face to hers and planted a searing kiss on her mouth, disappearing with a soft pop and leaving her standing alone in a pile of rubble._

* * *

**AN:** Fair winds and following seas, dearest readers!


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **Well, after dusting off a few of the cobwebs...here is another chapter. Hope everyone enjoys it, and I cannot wait to hear/read your feedback.

* * *

Draco tightened his grip on Hermione's arm as they hurried down the crowded hallway, other Death Eaters scowling and curling their lips up at her as Draco dragged her through the passage. She ignored them all, secure in the thought that if it came down to it, Draco would be able to defend her and wave it off as ensuring her safety as a huge piece of the war puzzle. That was what he always blamed it on. She was essential, so she needed to be kept safe, be watched at all times, kept in the dungeon for minimal amounts of time. She had a captive life of luxury.

"In here." Draco jerked her quickly to the right, kicking open a door and shoving her inside. He followed, using his foot to nudge the door shut. Nott rose to his feet from his place at the desk, hands folding behind his back. He gestured towards the bathroom door, which was cracked. Draco released Hermione and gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the open door. Hermione gave him an uncertain glance but crossed the room regardless, slipping into the bathroom.

"Hermione!" The brunette was enveloped into a teary, crushing hug that she knew only Weasley's could properly deal out. Hermione couldn't help the wail that fell from her mouth as she realized it was Ginny, and both women collapsed into each other on the floor. "I was so scared I would never see you again! I was so scared!"

"I know, I know." Hermione was clinging to Ginny almost as much as the redhead was holding on to her, both of them drawing what strength they needed from the other. "How did you get here?"

"It was so stupid." Ginny drew back, wiping at her face as she sniffled. "I had gone with Harry and Ron to try and track down your disappearance point, and we got ambushed. Only thing was, they didn't seem interested in trying to take either Ron or Harry. At one point Ron even threw his wand down and begged them to take him, but all they wanted was me. It was the first time I had ever seen Harry use the Killing Curse, and he was so angry that they wouldn't take him. He wanted to be brought here, he was willing to come here and die for me."

"But they took you out of the dungeons?" Hermione asked, holding Ginny's hands in her own.

"Yes." The redhead nodded. "I have to stay here, with Nott, but they told me I could see you if I agreed so I had no choice."

"I know. It'll be better, I promise." Hermione brushed Ginny's hair from her face, cupping the younger woman's cheek. "You want to be up here, I swear. Just keep your head down and do what he asks of you." Hermione's thumb brushed gently over the bruise under Ginny's eye. "You won't get any more of that. He'll see to it. They get protective of their belongings."

"But I'm not a belonging, I'm not a piece of property." Ginny hissed sharply, shaking her head. Hermione sighed and pulled her friend into a tight embrace, smoothing down the red hair in an attempt to calm Ginny.

"You want to be their property, Ginny. To belong to one is better than to belong to all of them."

* * *

_ "Stop staring at me." Hermione mumbled, one arm tucked underneath her body as she snuggled deeper into the pillows that surrounded her. "You're creepy when you stare."_

_ "You like me being creepy." A hoarse whisper slid over her shoulder, a pale hand caressing her bare waist as she rolled onto her back. _

_ "I like you being creepy outside of our private time." She arched her back off the soft mattress into a firm body, her fingers twisting into the crisp fabric of a finely pressed dress shirt. "Draco, you know the rules." She pointedly glared down at his still clothed form. He sighed and her face fell. "Again?"_

_ "He's not exactly the most lenient boss in the world, Hermione." Draco left a trail of tender kisses up the side of her throat, eliciting a moan from deep within her. "I wouldn't go if I didn't have to."_

_ "I know." She kissed the side of his face, rubbing her nose against his skin and inhaling the pine scented aftershave he was fond of. "But you should go."_

_ "Tell Potter he needs to clear out the western safe houses." Draco said suddenly, leaving a kiss on her cheek. "I'm going to find a way to end this, I swear."_

_ "What?" Hermione sat up quickly, the sheet falling from her naked body as Draco disappeared with a smirk and a soft pop._

* * *

"Do you remember the last time we saw each other, before the Battle?"

"We agreed not to talk about things like this."

"I know, but do you remember?"

"You're pushing your luck."

"Answer me."

"Of course I bloody damn well remember, woman." He scowled and turned onto his side, withdrawing his arm from underneath her and taking back his own body heat. He let out a soft sigh and she curled up tight behind him, one hand snaking over the dip at his waist so her palm could flatten against the bottom of his right ribcage.

"I had never seen you look so angry."

"I had never been that angry before." He admitted, letting her inch her hand inch up under his arms until her palm covered the spot over his heart.

"All because I said I might be in love with you?"

"You were a silly schoolgirl."

"And you were a pretentious prat, still are." She smiled against his bare back, inhaling the deep scent of pine and midnight.

"Hermione." One of his hands, thin and veined and shaking, took up her small one and brought it to his mouth. He nipped lightly at the backs of her knuckles, trying to remember how the rest of her flesh tasted.

"Draco."

"Go to sleep." He dropped her hand and rolled further away, ignoring the defeated exhale against his shoulder blades.

* * *

"Did you enjoy seeing Hermione?" Theodore felt like he was twelve years old again as he spoke to the diminutive redhead across the bedroom. She shuffled her feet on the floor and inched closer to the giant four poster bed.

"I did." She placed a tentative hand on the plush comforter that covered the expanse of the mattress and her heart leapt to her throat. Ginny pulled her hand back to her side, cradling it as if she had been burned.

"You do know I swore I wouldn't hurt you?"

"I know." She licked her lips and shifted her weight nervously.

"I promise you I won't. I want to explain some things to you before we go to bed." He stood from the chair at his desk, gesturing to the fireplace tucked in the corner. She looked at the high backed armchair and then at the blanket he was holding out towards her. "Please, come sit down." He was speaking with such a soft voice that she could barely control her feet as she began to move closer to him.

"Why are you and…and Malfoy different?" Ginny let the question leave her lips as the blanket was draped around her shoulders. Her hair hung in damp strands around her face, hints of jasmine and vanilla assaulting her nose whenever she inhaled. Theodore fell into the chair beside her, one hand waving over a glass tumbler until it filled with a dark liquid. He took a thick swallow and pursed his lips.

"We are not loyal to our cause. Or what our cause is supposed to be." Theodore swirled the glass and watched the liquid settle. "Draco has patiently waited and bided his time to get to where he is. It has taken many small steps, and several unfortunate incidents, for us to get this far."

"You mean the killings?" Ginny asked hotly. She had been one of the first people to find Lavender's mangled body in the woods, and she had been the one who volunteered to inform the girl's parents. "The murders and the massacres and the-"

"Yes." Theodore cut across her swiftly, tossing back the rest of the liquid with a grimace. "Every one of them. But now he sits in a position that would enable us to end the entire war."

"Second in command?" Ginny snorted. "It would be more likely that he would keep the war going."

"You know nothing about the man."

"He's just like his father." She spat nastily, her boldness and temper returning with an enflamed passion. "Worthless and spineless and weak, and when he gets the power he wants he'll turn on all of you."

"He loves her, you know." Theodore stared deeply into the fire, almost as if he hadn't heard a single word Ginny had said.

"Oh, bullshit." She almost flinched when he whipped his head in her direction. Eyes as dark as the liquid he had been drinking burned paths through her own eyes into the back of her mind, almost as if he was trying to project something into her brain.

And suddenly, with a gasp, Ginny understood how Hermione was alive.

_To belong to one of them is better than to belong to all of them._

* * *

**AN: **Please leave a review...fair winds and following seas to all.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Well, wow, um...Sorry for the delay and my unexplained absence. I really have nothing to say for myself other than I am terribly sorry I didn't give you all any heads up, and that since I felt guilty, this is a good chunk longer than most of my normal chapters. I hope you enjoy it. Quick warning: It is a little dark/rough so...just um, tread carefully I suppose.

* * *

"Tell me, Nott, how is our redheaded captive adjusting to her new life?" The hissed words slipped around Theodore's ears as he knelt before the Dark Lord.

"She is bold, and hard spirited, but I will take great pleasure in breaking her, My Lord." He swallowed thickly against the robes that seemed to be choking him. He could feel the cold fingers of Voldemort's attempt to enter his mind, and the beads of sweat dripping down his neck were a testament to how well he had done under Draco's tutelage. The Dark Lord withdrew from his head and Theodore nearly let out an audible sigh of relief. He held his breath, however, and rose to his feet, his head still bowed.

Draco relaxed his grip on the armrests of his chair on the small platform, eyes peering out from behind his silver mask. Nott was strong, stronger than Voldemort gave him credit for. It took serious effort to get a lie past the Dark Lord, and both of them had succeeded in doing so.

"My loyal friends, let us pause and reflect for a moment." Voldemort folded his hands in front of his long cloak, a horrible smile creeping onto his flat lips. "We have captured the Mudblood Granger, and the blood traitor Weasley girl. We have the perfect bait to lure Harry Potter into our clutches." His hands lifted, claw like fingers piercing the air. "Victory is upon us, my loyal disciples, and soon we will reign superior as is our destiny."

* * *

"If they won't help me, I'll go it alone." Harry Potter said furiously as he threw nearly all of his belongings into the charmed bag Hermione had left behind at Grimmauld Place. Ron followed him around the room, numb fingers touching some of Hermione's belongings that were scattered about. "Are you coming?"

"Maybe we shouldn't, Harry."

"So you're giving up on her? On Hermione? On Ginny, your sister?"

"No, I just…" Ron sighed and sat on the edge of the bed Hermione had once slept in. He picked at the pillow, a strand of long brunette hair pinched between his fingers. "I just think that maybe, Remus is right this time. Maybe we should wait, you know, until the Order is a little more on its feet."

"You're delusional." Harry spat, resuming his whirlwind packing. "The Ron I knew would have been out the door before I could have had a chance to say anything at all."

"I can't watch anyone else die, Harry." Ron grimaced and pulled awkwardly at the faded patches on his jeans. "Losing Fred, and Lavender…"

"But you'll let Hermione and Ginny rot in that goddamn mansion without so much as an attempt?" Harry spun on the spot, the shirt clutched in his hand hurling through the air at Ron's head. "You're thick, and I don't care how many people you've lost! Do you think it's easy for me to know that these people have all died because of me? This is the only way I can end it all!"

"It will never be that simple, Harry."

"I have to try."

* * *

Hermione nearly fell off the bathroom counter as someone entered the chambers she now almost exclusively shared with Draco. The door banged off the wall on the other side of the bathroom, angry and thunderous footsteps pounding across the room.

"Granger!" The use of her surname was never a good omen. She slid down off the counter, smoothing her skirt against her legs as she moved silently towards the double doors that led out of the bathroom. "GRANGER!"

"Yes?" She answered calmly. Hermione had less than a second to catch her breath before Draco's hands crushed her shoulders, bringing her face to his forcefully. She pushed in vain against his chest, her weakened frame no match now for his surprisingly wiry strength. When she tried to open her mouth to protest his actions, his hands grew stronger on her flesh and his tongue invaded the space between her teeth, hot and angry and yet desperate. A whimper escaped her, not one of pleasure but one of pain, but he misunderstood her anguish.

He hadn't been this rough in weeks. His hands were heavy and forceful, and no matter what way she turned her head, his followed. He bit at her lips more than once, making her whine. No matter what noise she made, it seemed to spurn him on faster. She pushed against his chest again and earned herself a quick but violent backhand. It broke the assault he had been dealing out on her mouth and she took the opportunity to gasp in shock.

"Stop fighting me." He all but growled the words at her, malice weakly coating the meaning of his words. _Please let me_. She knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." She answered defiantly, ripping her arms out of his grip. He reached for her again and she spun out of arm's length, into the bedroom. She was trapped regardless, but if she did this dance with him he could calm down before trying to claim her.

"I don't have to tell you anything at all." Draco lunged and she barely missed being grabbed. "Stop playing, or else it'll hurt you more."

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried." She teased, ducking a wild right hook. Her eyes narrowed at him. He jumped at her again, this time his fingers ripping into the thin fabric of her shirt. Hermione defensively wrapped her arms around her middle, her shirt falling to pieces.

"Fuck, woman." Draco threw the flimsy fabric in his hand to the floor, the downward motion fluidly becoming another sharp backhand that had Hermione blindly grasping the edge of the bed. He cascaded down on her, bending her forward so her chest was pressed against the mattress. She turned her head to the side, trying to breathe as her legs kicked and flailed uselessly. The heaviness of his left hand on the back of her neck kept her in place while his right hand quickly made easy work of her clothing. Her plain skirt fell to the floor in a puddle of cotton, the threadbare undergarments quickly following.

"Please." Hermione whimpered in vain out the side of her mouth, her lips parted as she tried to suck in air. Her hair was covering her face, the ends of some strands entering her mouth. She felt the hand on the back of her neck let up just the smallest bit, its lessened pressure replaced instead by a pair of thin but firm lips she knew all too well. A barely calloused hand snaked down the length of her thigh, lifting it until it was hooked around his waist and back.

And then Draco was pulling at her hair so hard it made her cry out, and the sudden intrusion between her legs burned both in pain and pleasure. His fingertips dug greedily into the flesh of her thigh as he rocked into her hard. Her hands gripped at the thick fabric of the comforter, her slightly pained whimpers morphing into small mewls and pleasured moans. Flesh wet with sweat filled the air with tiny slaps every time he collided with her until at last, after what seemed for Hermione too short of a time to fully enjoy the experience, he slumped over on top of her back, his forehead resting between her shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry." Draco let the words linger on her skin, pressing a kiss to the top of her left shoulder before dragging himself away and into the bathroom.

Hermione had the decency to wait until the shower started running to bury her face in a pillow and sob.

* * *

"Is there anything I can get you?" Theodore asked as he poured himself a glass of strong whiskey. He wasn't normally a drinker, but today had taken it out of him and he needed a quick recharge. Ginny looked up from her book and shook her head, her small hand brushing her hair from her face. "How are your books?"

"Wonderful." She smiled graciously and pulled her legs into the armchair with the rest of her body. "I couldn't have picked better."

"I'm sure you could have, but I tried." Theodore offered her his glass and she timidly accepted, sniffing the liquid before taking a brazen sip. She sputtered at first, and then with a careful peek over the rim of the glass, and took another swallow.

"Firewhiskey?"

"Just whiskey." Theodore took his tumbler back and downed half of it easily. He wasn't in a sipping mood today. They remained silent for a beat or two, and then Theodore sighed. "The Dark Lord wants more information from you." He gave the tumbler a swirl.

"Information?"

"Yes. Regarding the Order of the Phoenix." Another swirl.

"I won't say anything." Ginny stated resolutely, crossing her arms over her chest. Theodore chuckled at her defiance and then quickly swallowed the remainder of the whiskey.

"There's an easy way to do this, Ginny, and a hard way."

"Are you threatening me?" She was on her feet faster than Theodore expected and he instinctively reached for his wand. She snarled at him. "You're going to torture it out of me then? Go on! Hit me with everything you've got, you good for nothing bastard."

"Calm down." He set the glass down on the desk, exhaling slowly. "I'm not going to hex you."

"Rape me? Beat me? Kick me? Try to drown me?" She was hurling suggestions at him quicker than he could process them.

"Shut up!" His resolve snapped and his voice thundered about the room a few times before everything settled back to normal. Ginny stood angrily across the room from him, her fists clenched at her sides as her chest rose and fell in great heaves. Theodore gripped the back of the armchair she had been resting in so tightly that his fingernails had ripped through the fabric and his knuckles had gone from white to purple. "All I was trying to say was that you either tell me, or you tell him. It's your choice, and I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" She scoffed. "I don't need your pity, nor your sympathy, nor your bloody compassion." Ginny scowled. "And at the very most I don't need your damned protection."

"Really?" He let the word roll slowly from his mouth.

She let out a horrified gasp as he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, robes misting and swirling through her peripherals. She suddenly felt hands, light and hard and pushing and pulling, climbing all over her body, tugging and pressing and choking and stinging. The room had gone horribly dark, so dark she couldn't make out the shape of her hand as she blindly reached for anything to bring her back to reality.

"Please stop." She barely choked out the words as she felt hands creeping up the sides of her face, nails digging into her skin. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her pulse mixing with the hot sound of his breath over her shoulder.

"I'm not even hurting you." Theodore seemed almost triumphant when her hand collided with his arm, her fingers clinging to him desperately. She shook her head and dropped to her knees, curling in on herself. He knelt beside her, two fingers coming to rest under her chin. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, but what I do to you is nothing and will be nothing compared to what they could do." He tossed his head in the direction of the closed bedroom door. She shuddered. "The easy way is to tell me what I ask for. The hard way is to spend the rest of your time here away from me, and back down in a cell, where you can't be guaranteed to live."

It took her a moment, but finally, shaking and fighting the knot in her throat, she nodded.

"I don't…I don't want to go back there." Ginny took three unsteady breaths, almost hiccupping as memories of the dungeon raced through her mind.

"I thought not." His thumb laid gently against the dip between her lower lip and her chin, too dark eyes locking with hers.

She couldn't bring herself to fully relax into the kiss she knew was coming, but it was decidedly different, and better, than any touch she had experienced in the Manor.

* * *

**AN:** Well, I hope you all enjoyed it, and whether or not you did, I would appreciate any feedback you have for me! Fair winds and following seas!


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **Here's another chapter...thanks to everyone who has been adding this story to a list of favorites, or following it, and an especially huge thank you to all of you who have reviewed! I sincerely appreciate the support!

* * *

_"Run away with me."_

_ "We couldn't."_

_ "We could, and we could go anywhere. I've enough money, Father would never know it was missing. Mother would be thrilled."_

_ "And we'd be hunted for the rest of our lives."_

_ "I could make us a place where we'd be invisible."_

_ "Draco. You're talking nonsense."_

_ "I know." It was a long, wistful, and defeated sigh that passed from his mouth. His ring clinked heavily as he grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey on the bedside table. He brought it to his lips, eyes staring ahead at the dark walls of the Room of Requirement. He took a few deep swallows, savoring the burn as the liquid made its way to his stomach._

_ "You shouldn't drink."_

_ "You shouldn't love me."_

_ "But I do."_

_ "So I'll keep drinking." He again lifted the bottle to his mouth, his pale forearm glowing in the opaque room. The candles had burnt out long ago, the only light coming from her wand as it lay on the table beside her side of the bed. She had curled up, back towards him, with her arms tucked in close to her body. The sheet lay gently across her, the smooth expanse of her bare back exposed to Draco. More Firewhiskey drifted down his throat before he put the bottle, now nearly empty, on the table. He rolled to his side, off the pillows he had stacked against the headboard. One arm dug into the mattress, underneath her curled form, and the other draped over her waist as he fit himself to her. "If I stop drinking, you have to never love me again."_

_ "Then I hope you never stop drinking." She hummed, half asleep, as she leaned back into the warmth he brought. Half drunk, but fully aware, he pressed kisses to the side of her neck and across her shoulder._

_ "I won't."_

* * *

Draco watched as Hermione moved around the large bedroom, gathering clothes in her arms as she walked back and forth across the carpet. She had barely spoken to him in three days, when he had not so gently attacked her, and it was killing him inside. He knew he deserved the silent treatment, but she was here because of him, and she should have been grateful that now the only time she was subjected to such pain was when he was dealing it out.

"Are you done staring?" She suddenly snapped, the dirty items in her arms falling to the floor with an angry flourish. "I can feel your eyes on me, and it makes my skin crawl. Stop."

"I'll do as I wish." He countered almost childishly. She inhaled slowly, holding her breath when he lungs had filled. He nearly braced himself for the infamous Granger lecture he had seen after this kind of inhale, but he relaxed when she merely bent to the floor and started picking up the laundry again. The next several minutes passed in tense silence, but when she emerged from the bathroom, her hands empty and shaking, she squared off in the doorway and stared him down.

"I don't want to be up here anymore."

"Don't be ridiculous." Draco waved a dismissive hand at her and picked up the tumbler he kept on a shelf at his desk.

"I'm not!" Hermione had to resist the urge to stomp her foot in annoyance. "I want to go back downstairs, to your dungeons, and be left there for the rest of my stay."

"Really? I think you're off your goddamn rocker, Granger."

"I think you're cruel."

"Cruel?" He let the word linger on his tongue, pouring a healthy dose of Firewhiskey into the glass. When he had the perfect amount he rose to his feet, tossing back the liquid as if it was a single shot. He swallowed twice, eyes stinging with the burn. He turned to face her, pulling on the black silk dress shirt that had been draped over his chair. "Darling you don't know what cruel is."

"It's you." She snarled.

"If you're referencing my behavior the other afternoon, that was not cruel." He took his time with the small pearl buttons, eyes never drifting from her.

"Yes it was, and I would rather endure that treatment from a thousand people than from you ever again." Her voice was shaking, but still defiant, and Draco found himself sighing impatiently.

"Fine. Go back to the dungeons, where every single one of them can touch you and beat you and, by some miracle, if you survive that round, and the next, and the one after that, and you start begging to be let back up here, you can forget it." He had taken progressive steps towards her, at last stopping mere inches from her position in the bathroom doorway. "But if you go down there only to get away from me, know that I can always get to you, and I always will, and you won't ever hate me for what I've done or what I could do to you."

"You're right." Hermione whispered back, the lump her throat making it hard to talk or breathe. "I won't hate you." The tears that had yet to fall were perched dangerously on her lower lashes, quivering with anticipation. Draco felt his stomach tighten and his chest constrict. He should have known better than to taunt her like that, because she was ready to deliver his retribution in full. "I don't think I could ever hate you."

"Don't you dare say it." He pointed a furious finger at her face and she tilted her chin stubbornly. "Say it, and so help me, I will have you locked so far and so deep down in that dungeon I won't even know how to get to you."

"So then do it." Hermione saw the break in his eyes and seized it, taking an emboldened step forward. "You won't do it because you can't, and you know why, and it's the same reason why I don't hate you."

"Stop. Talking." Draco ground the words through his teeth, his lips barely moving as he spoke. She took another step, her chest nearly touching his.

"Send me down to the dungeon and prove you don't actually care for me, that all this time meant nothing to you, and that every single piece of what we shared at school is as meaningless to you as is your rank within the Death Eaters. Prove that to me, right now, I dare you."

It didn't surprise her, nor disappoint her in the least, when he made a low noise in the back of his throat before grabbing greedily at her face with his hands, his angry and scorching mouth devouring hers with a sudden passion that only admitted his inward feelings. She clung back just as eagerly, heart filled to the point it was ready to burst, as her mind raced with the memories she had carried for several years.

* * *

"You seem distracted this evening, young Malfoy." Voldemort observed as Draco sat, unblinking, in the chair in front of the desk that had once belonged to Lucius. The bone-like wand was perched yet again on the edge of the desk, a sign of the trust that existed between the Dark Lord and Draco. Draco knew that, if he so desired, he could reach out and grab it, end the war by killing Voldemort, and walk out unscathed. But he also knew it was not the way of the prophecy, and that only through the prophecy could this madness end.

"I apologize, My Lord." Draco said quietly. "I have been preoccupied with the latest plans for advancing on the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"You know where the headquarters is located, then?" Voldemort asked expectantly. Draco shook his head and lifted a finger to explain.

"I was hoping, with your permission of course, to have Nott attempt to withdraw this information from the Weasley girl, since I feel she would not be as skilled an Occlumens as the Mudblood. What I have gleaned from the Mudblood, however, is that Potter will not be standing idly by much longer. Now that we have the object of his affections, and the better half of his brain with Granger in our hold, Potter basically has no choice but to come to us soon." Draco was glad for the practice he had spent on his speech, his eyes calm behind his silver mask as Voldemort leaned back in the leather chair.

"You have a talent, young Malfoy, that is not unlike the one I had when I was your age." Voldemort offered Draco his bastardized version of a smile and then swept his hand towards the door. "If the attempt with the Weasley girl fails and she is stronger than we expect, I want you to bring her to me, along with the Mudblood. I am sure their corpses will send a message to Potter if they don't yield what we expect."

"Of course, My Lord." Draco bowed low and slipped out of the large office, his heart pounding so heavily in his ears that he didn't hear Pansy calling his name as he charged up the stairs.

His magic was so far ahead of him that the doors to his room flew open with several strides left, his mask evaporating as he frantically searched inside the confines of the bedroom for an item that he had hidden long ago. He tore open the drawers on his desk, fingers clawing at the wood like an animal until his brain kicked in. With a quick flourish of his arms the desk splintered, leaving a mess of wooden shards scattered about the floor. His eyes latched onto the thing he was looking for and he quickly stashed it in his robes, collapsing back onto his rear as he tried to calm himself.

Draco finally got his breathing under control as he withdrew his precious possession out from his robes. With a shaking hand he cradled it in his lap, his chin trembling furiously as the word 'corpse' turned over and over in his mind. Guilt crept up from his lungs, building in the hole where he knew a heart existed, until finally it spilled out from his eyes and he had to bury his emotions in the thick sleeve of his robe.

Hermione watched silently from the far side of the bedroom as Draco bent his head into the crook of an elbow, his fist curled tightly around a slip of light purple fabric. It was stained dark with aged blood, Lavender's blood, and he was holding onto it as if it was the only thing tying him to the earth. She made her way to him carefully, folding her hands around the one squeezing the purple headband. His head jerked up, eyes miserable and red, but grateful.

"She would have forgiven you."

"No one ever should." He twisted the fabric even further in his fingers and then, in a shocking display of affection, he gathered Hermione up in his lap, his face buried deep in the place where her neck and shoulder met. His shoulders barely jerked with silent tears as he whispered apologies into her flesh.

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**AN:** Please leave a review, dearest readers! Fair winds and following seas to all...


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